


Mistakes and Memories

by elektravondemon



Series: Mistakes and Memories [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektravondemon/pseuds/elektravondemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A femme from Megatron's past comes back to haunt him. Will he make the right decision in choosing her or follow his dominance to continue the war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings people of FF! My first OC story. It'll probably suck big-time -_-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newcomers arrive on Earth in a crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings people of FF! My first OC story. It'll probably suck big-time -_-

The ship consisted of a five-bot team; four Autobots and one Neutral. The cruiser was relatively small compared to any Decepticon warship. And that's where the problem started in the first place: engines 3 and 5 were busted from enemy fire, causing the spacecraft to fall apart. The controls were useless, seeing how nothing could be fixed and the Autobot ship cannot be steered away from the asteroid belt, effectively pelting violently across the hull and sides. Rendered useless, the craft was now tumbling wildly through space toward a familiar blue and partially green planet named Earth.

Prowl, esteemed tactician and infamous second-in-command of the Autobot forces, had ordered his team to the bottom deck where the stasis pods were located. Crashing on the strange world was imminent and stasis was the only to ensure protection from major injuries. Nightdrift did not always obey orders, though, including this one.

Shouting from the door to the control deck, "Nightdrift, get below into the stasis pod now!" Prowl needed to secure his team before himself.

"You go! I'm trying to save our afts!" the femme replied, returning to the feeble attempt at repairing the bridge controls. The task was difficult especially with most of the ship falling to pieces and getting knocked around like a ragdoll.

Prowl didn't waste time arguing, instead following her advice and booked it to his intended destination. The door-winged mech just made it in the nick of time before the  _Ark_  hurled onto Earth's surface, forcing Nightdrift to hit her head putting her into unintended stasis and leaving a vast line showing evidence of the crash.

* * *

Autobot Outpost Omega-1'systems blared loudly, jousting all inhabitants from shutdown, or in the humans' case, sleeping. Ratchet grouchily approached the computer silencing the alarm while everyone came up behind him with annoyed expressions, aside from Optimus Prime.

"Aw, don't the 'Cons ever recharge?" Bulkhead complained.

"Geez, Bulk, keep it down, will ya? You're giving me a headache." Miko groaned holding her head.

"Ratchet, old friend, what is the situation?" Optimus gently asked, though anyone could detect the lace of sleepiness.

"Do you have to talk so loud?!" said medic hissed to pretty much everyone in the room. Directing his attention to the monitor, he realized why he interrupted from his 'beauty sleep'. A sudden smile crossed his features, "By the All-Spark! It's an Autobot identification beacon! More of us have landed on earth." It seemed all previous tiredness has been forgotten in a flash.

"They sent a distress signal, guys. It's possible they crashed." Raf stated. He is correct. Before the impact, Nightdrift sent a message to Autobots requesting assistance.

"We cannot risk our enemies detecting such a signal and thus cannot have our allies becoming prisoners aboard the Nemesis." Optimus declared, "Ratchet, prepare the medical bay. Bumblebee, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack: prepare to roll out." All four bots stood at attention when their names were called and transformed at the order given. Ratchet entered the coordinates of the _Ark_  into the computer and a second later the ground-bridge swirled open.

Once his team has driven though the vortex, Optimus transformed himself and followed suit, leaving Ratchet to gather his tools and humans on the balcony by the elevator anxiously waiting for the return of their guardians and the sight of more Autobots to befriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short. This is just a warm-up. Anyone wanna guess who's part of Prowl's team beside himself and Nightdrift? :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Formal introductions of Prowl's team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smokescreen, MECH, and Shockwave will NOT be part of this story. Keep this in mind. they might be mentioned, but they will not playing a part of this plot. This is Prime/AU, taking place before the whole Omega Lock and ancient relics crap. I realize the whole second season is aimed at that but not here, hence the 'AU'.
> 
> Jazz, Prowl, and the twins are the same as their G1 forms just add a Prime-verse look to it. Also I am terrible at describing battle scenes and I'm not too good at describing appearances so don't put me down for that. I am going to try to keep Mistakes and Memories as short as possible while still explaining the back-story of Nightdrift. My laziness takes a toll on me sometimes :P

There wasn't any word to describe Optimus' relief and joy when he and his team pulled all five newcomers safely into their base. As anticipated, the Decepticons immediately released fire upon their foes once in sight. The ex-Wreckers and Bumblebee extracted Jazz, Prowl, and the twins (Bulkhead carrying the latter), while Arcee and her commander quickly explored the rest of the ship finding the injured femme laying in a small pool of energon from her wound.

Ratchet entered Nightdrift into stasis and effortlessly healed her helm. The other members were just awakening from their own stasis by the time the Autobot medic finished his work. "All of them are stable, Optimus. The Neutral was just lucky she didn't lose too much energon," he stated with a slight bite to his tone.

Wheeljack said, "We were just lucky escaping back here without getting torn up by the 'Cons, doc. Besides they weren't out of it for too long before we arrived." As if on cue, the door-winged mech named Prowl groaned, alerting the residents in the room. His systems booted up harshly, letting in the ridiculous light on the ceiling that he happened to be, unfortunately, staring directly at. Blinking away his internal systems' diagnostics, his vision blurred with an all-too-familiar,  _smirking_  red/orange-and-white figure. He slowly sat up taking his surroundings; his saboteur laying on an adjacent med-berth, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe laying on their berths in front of some sort of chamber, and to his right next to a platform was his Neutral/former prisoner Nightdrift.

In restraints.

Typical. Every Autobot that has met the femme has tried to put her down for her supposed treachery.

The second-in-command stood up with his optics landing on the three human children and then on six other Autobots, all but two of which stand out the most. "Ratchet, you're a sight for sore optics." His deep baritone (not like the Prime's though) rolled through his chassis like high-grade. "Indeed, Prowl, it has been a while." The two bots shook hands when Optimus spoke with all attention turned to him, "Prowl I see we have reunited once again, though perhaps not in a wanted situation."; his bad humor graced the environment.

Soon enough, Jazz and the 'Terror Twins', as Ratchet bitterly thought, awoke from their light sleep nursing sore joints and limbs from the crash and from being stuck in a forsaken ship for Primus-knows-how-long. That only left Nightdrift in stasis still recovering from her minor injury.

"HATCHET!" The sudden happy shout nearly made him jump several feet in the air. Nonetheless he twirled to his who spoke his rare-spoken nickname (though he already had a hunch). Of course. The twins. Out of pure habit, he took out his favorite weapon - the wrench - and hurled it at the fierce troublemakers.

CLANG! CLANG!

"I believe the human phrase is: two birds, one stone?" Just in case he turned to the humans who were by their guardians' feet when they confirmed the saying.

"Oh, c'mon, doc!," they both complained, "Don't you miss us?" Sunstreaker 'sweetly' asked. In a sing-song voice Sideswipe added, "Your favorite bots in the whole wide universe?" Ratchet's right optic twitched but couldn't deny the fact that he had in fact missed the pranksters, along with Prowl and Jazz, of course.

Jazz was staring at the humans as if they were one Prowl ridiculous equations. "So these earthlings are the life-forms we're supposed to protect, Prime?" Said Prime nodded. "Wow. They look just like us!", the saboteur exclaimed.

Prowl, though, had other things on his mind, like a certain femme. "Ratchet, may I ask why Nightdrift is restrained to the berth?"

Ratchet responded, "Well, why do you think, Prowl? I didn't see an Autobot or Decepticon sigil on her chassis." That mistake made Prowl's doorwings flutter in slight annoyance. Before he had the chance to respond, Jack asked, "I saw that too. Why is that?"

Bumblebee answered in his usual blips and whirls; Raf translated in the form a question, "What's a Neutral?"

"A Neutral is a bot who has chosen not to align themselves with either the Autobot or Decepticon faction," a new voice rang throughout the room. Everyone turned to see a black and gold-pinstriped femme standing as tall as Ratchet, minus the appendages sticking from her shoulder blades (which were the tail fins in car mode that extend in bipedal mode). Her pedes' armor cover the front tires of her vehicle form, legs looking much like Arcee's. At her waist were the back tires, the rims facing sideways. The torso was curved like any normal femme's with two bold yellow-orangeish stripes that point in from the sides then downward toward her interface panel between the legs; pretty much an invitation. The almond-shaped headlights that were slanted downward a little made up the breastplates. Her arms and shoulders swirled with black and silver; they led up to a medium-length and somewhat narrow neck which supported an oval-shaped head. Nightdrift's derma were set in a perpetual smirk that reminded anyone of a confident, aristocratic individual. There were small audio receptors sticking from her helm and a single band of triangular-shaped optic covers that represented an Autobot-blue visor that completed the whole look  **(TFA Prowl's colors and visor are similar to ND's)**.

Nightdrift was swinging around the stasis cuffs from her wrists on one finger, and leaning against a support beam. "You must be Ratchet." Ratchet nodded dumbly, "How did you get out of the stasis cuffs?" he demanded.

"Oh Ratchet," Sunstreaker drawled, "there isn't any restraint that could hold her. She's Nightdrift."

"I realize that but they are  _stasis cuffs_!" CRUNCH! Cling. That was the sound of metal getting mangled, specifically the cuffs and then dropping to the floor. As soon as the destroyed cuffs hit the floor two things happened: 1) Ratchet shouted: I NEEDED THAT! And 2) Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack fired up their arm blasters and aimed for Nightdrift. Sideswipe promptly jumped in front of Nightdrift acting as a shield, with his hands help up defensively. "Wait, guys, she means well. Honest."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Arcee deadpanned. Nightdrift sidestepped from behind her 'protector', stepping towards her fellow femme. "If I wanted to hurt you, Autobot, I would've done so already," she smirked, "Now unless you actually will shoot me, in front of human children no less, put away your blasters." From behind her visor, she looked at her three perpetuators as they slowly and reluctantly did as requested.

Wheeljack didn't remove his gaze from Nightdrift, calculating her every move. "Just know, that if you ever even think about hurting anyone here…"

"I won't even move from where I'm standing." Did she just admit she'll let Wheeljack hurt her? Weird.

"If you are unable to respect a fellow Cybertronian, then you're welcome to leave the room, Wrecker." Wheeljack glared at the tactician. "Why do I have the feeling that we won't get along too well again, Prowler?"

"So there's infighting with Autobots, too, huh?" Jack muttered. He happened to glance at Optimus when the Prime nodded. "Aside from Arcee, Bulkhead, and Nightdrift, we were all stationed at the same base in Iacon. We were part of the Autobot vessel, the  _Ark_ , before we split into small teams to go our separate ways for our journey in space to come here, to Earth," Ratchet briefly explained.

"O…..k? So who are you guys?" Miko asked.

Prowl stepped forward, "I am Prowl; second-in-command of the Autobot forces. Optimus' third and my right hand mech, as you may call it, is Jazz," said mech nodded. "He is an expert in the art of sabotage, and is very professional in the field…Most of the time." Jazz snickered.

"Wait, Arcee, I thought you were second to Optimus?" Jack asked.

The femme answered with a shake of her head, "No, Jack, I'm second-in-command of the Autobots here on earth, of Team Prime.  _Not_ the entire Autobot army," she chuckled.

Prowl continued, "The red and yellow twins are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, respectively. And you already met Nightdrift," he finished, crossing his arms over his spark chamber.

Raf shyly spoke up, looking at Nightdrift, "Wh-Why are you a Neutral? And you're not considered a prisoner, according to Prowl; so I was just curious."

She kindly responded…Nightdrift kind? Yeah, right. "Well, I chose not to side with the ones who are responsible, for the most part, of destroying Cybertron. And most Autobots don't take too kindly to me, as you may have noticed. If they choose not respect me as a fellow Cybertronian then that's their fault." There were protests from both of the former Wreckers and the two-wheeler when she said that. "Oh, shut up!" The voices quieted down. "You all know it's true," she took on more of high-pitched voice, mockingly, "Oh, Neutrals are traitors, they are more dangerous, they have no respect or feelings for those around them. You can't trust them because they're worse than Decepticons!"

The humans flinched at the harsh tone coming from the black femme, realizing the common problem with Neutrals summed up in a couple sentences.

Nightdrift sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. I usually don't raise my voice like that," her apology was sincere.

"Autobots," everyone looked the Prime, who has now decided to add in his two cents. "All I ask is that you treat Nightdrift with the respect as you would anyone else. While she may not be a trusted ally, she is not our enemy. She is a fellow comrade as a human can be." The humans and Team Prime nodded in understanding, "But," he looked Bulkhead, Arcee, and Wheeljack, "to settle your processors, I will ensure that Nightdrift will limited privileges at our base." He looked at Nightdrift with firm optics and she looked back with grateful ones. "Nightdrift, you will not be allowed to exit this base for any reason, unless one of us," he gestures to each member of Team Prime, including the humans, "accompanies you through a ground bridge only. I will allow you to inhabit your own berth room as long as you do not invade the privacy of another." She nodded as he continued, "While any of us may be away temporarily, you can assist Ratchet with any in-house projects."

"Also, I will give you the more descriptive rules regarding these projects later. I'm sure that Prowl and the rest would want to use the wash racks and settle in, assuming that they will stay for a while?" He looked at the newcomers who all nodded in agreement. Miko cheered. Optimus and Nightdrift locked gazes and she mouthed, 'Thank you.' He inclined his head.

* * *

The  _Nemesis_ : 8:53 p.m. Jasper, NV time

Megatron smashed a third computer making Starscream squawk for the third time.

"M-Master? May I ask why you are so upset?"

"Upset?!" Megatron panted with a fake smile, "I'm not upset. I'm just disappointed that only Soundwave, his symbiote, and Knockout are the only ones doing their jobs correctly!" Knockout didn't hide the smug smirk until his Lord gave him a dirty look. "I want to know who are the newly arrived Autobots coordinating with their Prime to find ways to demolish us.  _Now._ " Soundwave stopped whatever the frag he was doing on the monitor (not of the computer his leader oh-so-kindly tore apart) and turned to his long-time ally, displaying 5 unknown life signals, decorated with an Autobot symbol for each.

Little did the Autobots know, Soundwave sent Laserbeak to watch from a safe distance of the most recent battle between both factions. Everything was recorded and already downloaded into the warship's mainframe. The silent robo-bird managed to a very good perspective of the crashed Autobot cruiser. The spy officer already started playing the video but fast forwarded to the end where the ground bridge that Ratchet sent appeared.

Only four out of five unconscious robots were visible. Soundwave already determined that Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe are now considered Team Prime. The last scene showed Optimus and Arcee running together to the groundbridge when Megatron said, "Stop." The recording froze on command, horribly pixilated. The Prime's and blue femme's backsides were facing the camera, albeit fuzzy. Soundwave immediately cleaned the grain giving a clear picture of Optimus holding something bridal style. The only thing seen were two black and silver legs that would be swaying if the video were moving.

"What is the identification of the black one?" Megatron's only answer was a cutthroat buzzer sound. The warlord scowled at the rude sound but otherwise didn't care. He brought up his left servo to chestplates with the fingertips sticking up; he started rubbing them together as he contemplated his next words. "Soundwave, make sure you find out who that black Autobot is no matter what," he avoided looking at his TIC, his voice somewhat quiet but stern. "Let nothing stop you from doing so. We need to find out who that fifth bot is as soon as possible." He finally looked up as Soundwave gave a curt nod. He then turned to leave the main bridge straight to his quarters, ready for heavy thinking.

But there was only one thing on his mind that plagued his processor for the last several hours. Such a tiny detail on such a short video clip stuck deep in his mind. There weren't many black colored Cybertronian. The ones who were had actually been statistically called a dark blue.

 _Could it be true?_  He wondered.  _No, it can't be. It isn't possible._  He growled deep in his throat. "I refuse to believe it," he shook his head, as if shaking it would make it go away.

It still didn't.

There wasn't any word to describe Optimus' relief and joy when he and his team pulled all five newcomers safely into their base. As anticipated, the Decepticons immediately released fire upon their foes once in sight. The ex-Wreckers and Bumblebee extracted Jazz, Prowl, and the twins (Bulkhead carrying the latter), while Arcee and her commander quickly explored the rest of the ship finding the injured femme laying in a small pool of energon from her wound.

Ratchet entered Nightdrift into stasis and effortlessly healed her helm. The other members were just awakening from their own stasis by the time the Autobot medic finished his work. "All of them are stable, Optimus. The Neutral was just lucky she didn't lose too much energon," he stated with a slight bite to his tone.

Wheeljack said, "We were just lucky escaping back here without getting torn up by the 'Cons, doc. Besides they weren't out of it for too long before we arrived." As if on cue, the door-winged mech named Prowl groaned, alerting the residents in the room. His systems booted up harshly, letting in the ridiculous light on the ceiling that he happened to be, unfortunately, staring directly at. Blinking away his internal systems' diagnostics, his vision blurred with an all-too-familiar,  _smirking_  red/orange-and-white figure. He slowly sat up taking his surroundings; his saboteur laying on an adjacent med-berth, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe laying on their berths in front of some sort of chamber, and to his right next to a platform was his Neutral/former prisoner Nightdrift.

In restraints.

Typical. Every Autobot that has met the femme has tried to put her down for her supposed treachery.

The second-in-command stood up with his optics landing on the three human children and then on six other Autobots, all but two of which stand out the most. "Ratchet, you're a sight for sore optics." His deep baritone (not like the Prime's though) rolled through his chassis like high-grade. "Indeed, Prowl, it has been a while." The two bots shook hands when Optimus spoke with all attention turned to him, "Prowl I see we have reunited once again, though perhaps not in a wanted situation."; his bad humor graced the environment.

Soon enough, Jazz and the 'Terror Twins', as Ratchet bitterly thought, awoke from their light sleep nursing sore joints and limbs from the crash and from being stuck in a forsaken ship for Primus-knows-how-long. That only left Nightdrift in stasis still recovering from her minor injury.

"HATCHET!" The sudden happy shout nearly made him jump several feet in the air. Nonetheless he twirled to his who spoke his rare-spoken nickname (though he already had a hunch). Of course. The twins. Out of pure habit, he took out his favorite weapon - the wrench - and hurled it at the fierce troublemakers.

CLANG! CLANG!

"I believe the human phrase is: two birds, one stone?" Just in case he turned to the humans who were by their guardians' feet when they confirmed the saying.

"Oh, c'mon, doc!," they both complained, "Don't you miss us?" Sunstreaker 'sweetly' asked. In a sing-song voice Sideswipe added, "Your favorite bots in the whole wide universe?" Ratchet's right optic twitched but couldn't deny the fact that he had in fact missed the pranksters, along with Prowl and Jazz, of course.

Jazz was staring at the humans as if they were one Prowl ridiculous equations. "So these earthlings are the life-forms we're supposed to protect, Prime?" Said Prime nodded. "Wow. They look just like us!", the saboteur exclaimed.

Prowl, though, had other things on his mind, like a certain femme. "Ratchet, may I ask why Nightdrift is restrained to the berth?"

Ratchet responded, "Well, why do you think, Prowl? I didn't see an Autobot or Decepticon sigil on her chassis." That mistake made Prowl's doorwings flutter in slight annoyance. Before he had the chance to respond, Jack asked, "I saw that too. Why is that?"

Bumblebee answered in his usual blips and whirls; Raf translated in the form a question, "What's a Neutral?"

"A Neutral is a bot who has chosen not to align themselves with either the Autobot or Decepticon faction," a new voice rang throughout the room. Everyone turned to see a black and gold-pinstriped femme standing as tall as Ratchet, minus the appendages sticking from her shoulder blades (which were the tail fins in car mode that extend in bipedal mode). Her pedes' armor cover the front tires of her vehicle form, legs looking much like Arcee's. At her waist were the back tires, the rims facing sideways. The torso was curved like any normal femme's with two bold yellow-orangeish stripes that point in from the sides then downward toward her interface panel between the legs; pretty much an invitation. The almond-shaped headlights that were slanted downward a little made up the breastplates. Her arms and shoulders swirled with black and silver; they led up to a medium-length and somewhat narrow neck which supported an oval-shaped head. Nightdrift's derma were set in a perpetual smirk that reminded anyone of a confident, aristocratic individual. There were small audio receptors sticking from her helm and a single band of triangular-shaped optic covers that represented an Autobot-blue visor that completed the whole look  **(TFA Prowl's colors and visor are similar to ND's)**.

Nightdrift was swinging around the stasis cuffs from her wrists on one finger, and leaning against a support beam. "You must be Ratchet." Ratchet nodded dumbly, "How did you get out of the stasis cuffs?" he demanded.

"Oh Ratchet," Sunstreaker drawled, "there isn't any restraint that could hold her. She's Nightdrift."

"I realize that but they are  _stasis cuffs_!" CRUNCH! Cling. That was the sound of metal getting mangled, specifically the cuffs and then dropping to the floor. As soon as the destroyed cuffs hit the floor two things happened: 1) Ratchet shouted: I NEEDED THAT! And 2) Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack fired up their arm blasters and aimed for Nightdrift. Sideswipe promptly jumped in front of Nightdrift acting as a shield, with his hands help up defensively. "Wait, guys, she means well. Honest."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Arcee deadpanned. Nightdrift sidestepped from behind her 'protector', stepping towards her fellow femme. "If I wanted to hurt you, Autobot, I would've done so already," she smirked, "Now unless you actually will shoot me, in front of human children no less, put away your blasters." From behind her visor, she looked at her three perpetuators as they slowly and reluctantly did as requested.

Wheeljack didn't remove his gaze from Nightdrift, calculating her every move. "Just know, that if you ever even think about hurting anyone here…"

"I won't even move from where I'm standing." Did she just admit she'll let Wheeljack hurt her? Weird.

"If you are unable to respect a fellow Cybertronian, then you're welcome to leave the room, Wrecker." Wheeljack glared at the tactician. "Why do I have the feeling that we won't get along too well again, Prowler?"

"So there's infighting with Autobots, too, huh?" Jack muttered. He happened to glance at Optimus when the Prime nodded. "Aside from Arcee, Bulkhead, and Nightdrift, we were all stationed at the same base in Iacon. We were part of the Autobot vessel, the  _Ark_ , before we split into small teams to go our separate ways for our journey in space to come here, to Earth," Ratchet briefly explained.

"O…..k? So who are you guys?" Miko asked.

Prowl stepped forward, "I am Prowl; second-in-command of the Autobot forces. Optimus' third and my right hand mech, as you may call it, is Jazz," said mech nodded. "He is an expert in the art of sabotage, and is very professional in the field…Most of the time." Jazz snickered.

"Wait, Arcee, I thought you were second to Optimus?" Jack asked.

The femme answered with a shake of her head, "No, Jack, I'm second-in-command of the Autobots here on earth, of Team Prime.  _Not_ the entire Autobot army," she chuckled.

Prowl continued, "The red and yellow twins are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, respectively. And you already met Nightdrift," he finished, crossing his arms over his spark chamber.

Raf shyly spoke up, looking at Nightdrift, "Wh-Why are you a Neutral? And you're not considered a prisoner, according to Prowl; so I was just curious."

She kindly responded…Nightdrift kind? Yeah, right. "Well, I chose not to side with the ones who are responsible, for the most part, of destroying Cybertron. And most Autobots don't take too kindly to me, as you may have noticed. If they choose not respect me as a fellow Cybertronian then that's their fault." There were protests from both of the former Wreckers and the two-wheeler when she said that. "Oh, shut up!" The voices quieted down. "You all know it's true," she took on more of high-pitched voice, mockingly, "Oh, Neutrals are traitors, they are more dangerous, they have no respect or feelings for those around them. You can't trust them because they're worse than Decepticons!"

The humans flinched at the harsh tone coming from the black femme, realizing the common problem with Neutrals summed up in a couple sentences.

Nightdrift sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. I usually don't raise my voice like that," her apology was sincere.

"Autobots," everyone looked the Prime, who has now decided to add in his two cents. "All I ask is that you treat Nightdrift with the respect as you would anyone else. While she may not be a trusted ally, she is not our enemy. She is a fellow comrade as a human can be." The humans and Team Prime nodded in understanding, "But," he looked Bulkhead, Arcee, and Wheeljack, "to settle your processors, I will ensure that Nightdrift will limited privileges at our base." He looked at Nightdrift with firm optics and she looked back with grateful ones. "Nightdrift, you will not be allowed to exit this base for any reason, unless one of us," he gestures to each member of Team Prime, including the humans, "accompanies you through a ground bridge only. I will allow you to inhabit your own berth room as long as you do not invade the privacy of another." She nodded as he continued, "While any of us may be away temporarily, you can assist Ratchet with any in-house projects."

"Also, I will give you the more descriptive rules regarding these projects later. I'm sure that Prowl and the rest would want to use the wash racks and settle in, assuming that they will stay for a while?" He looked at the newcomers who all nodded in agreement. Miko cheered. Optimus and Nightdrift locked gazes and she mouthed, 'Thank you.' He inclined his head.

The  _Nemesis_ : 8:53 p.m. Jasper, NV time

Megatron smashed a third computer making Starscream squawk for the third time.

"M-Master? May I ask why you are so upset?"

"Upset?!" Megatron panted with a fake smile, "I'm not upset. I'm just disappointed that only Soundwave, his symbiote, and Knockout are the only ones doing their jobs correctly!" Knockout didn't hide the smug smirk until his Lord gave him a dirty look. "I want to know who are the newly arrived Autobots coordinating with their Prime to find ways to demolish us.  _Now._ " Soundwave stopped whatever the frag he was doing on the monitor (not of the computer his leader oh-so-kindly tore apart) and turned to his long-time ally, displaying 5 unknown life signals, decorated with an Autobot symbol for each.

Little did the Autobots know, Soundwave sent Laserbeak to watch from a safe distance of the most recent battle between both factions. Everything was recorded and already downloaded into the warship's mainframe. The silent robo-bird managed to a very good perspective of the crashed Autobot cruiser. The spy officer already started playing the video but fast forwarded to the end where the ground bridge that Ratchet sent appeared.

Only four out of five unconscious robots were visible. Soundwave already determined that Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe are now considered Team Prime. The last scene showed Optimus and Arcee running together to the groundbridge when Megatron said, "Stop." The recording froze on command, horribly pixilated. The Prime's and blue femme's backsides were facing the camera, albeit fuzzy. Soundwave immediately cleaned the grain giving a clear picture of Optimus holding something bridal style. The only thing seen were two black and silver legs that would be swaying if the video were moving.

"What is the identification of the black one?" Megatron's only answer was a cutthroat buzzer sound. The warlord scowled at the rude sound but otherwise didn't care. He brought up his left servo to chestplates with the fingertips sticking up; he started rubbing them together as he contemplated his next words. "Soundwave, make sure you find out who that black Autobot is no matter what," he avoided looking at his TIC, his voice somewhat quiet but stern. "Let nothing stop you from doing so. We need to find out who that fifth bot is as soon as possible." He finally looked up as Soundwave gave a curt nod. He then turned to leave the main bridge straight to his quarters, ready for heavy thinking.

But there was only one thing on his mind that plagued his processor for the last several hours. Such a tiny detail on such a short video clip stuck deep in his mind. There weren't many black colored Cybertronian. The ones who were had actually been statistically called a dark blue.

 _Could it be true?_  He wondered.  _No, it can't be. It isn't possible._  He growled deep in his throat. "I refuse to believe it," he shook his head, as if shaking it would make it go away.

It still didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Autobots get alt modes; Soundwave and Megatron act differently.

Miko just stared. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to stop even though it was starting to make things uncomfortable.

Nightdrift polished the same canister for the past 20 minutes, not wanting to miss a single smudge. She knew that the human girl was intensely studying her.

When she finished with the minor task the Autobot medic assigned to her, Nightdrift awaited her next order. While waiting, the femme averted her optics toward the railing – that Miko was so gracefully leaning over – and switched her gaze back and forth between the exchange student and Ratchet's busy servos, which were examining his prodigy's handiwork.

Nightdrift now only looked to Miko as if they were having a staring contest. Miko blinked. Nightdrift smiled. Miko's (thin) patience finally dispersed.

"Sooo why are you here again?" Her arms barely supporting her head as she spoke.

Turning her gaze back toward the Autobot in front of her, Nightdrift coolly said, "I already gave you my answer."

"Yeah, well, I  _really_  don't believe you on that," Miko slumped even more over the edge, "Is that the only reason?"

Nightdrift's face slightly twisted and her wings flicked twice. Crossing her arms over her chest, her hidden optics squeezed shut and reopened. "No, it isn't."

By this time, the other two teenagers came and stood by Miko, listening in carefully. Video games had gotten boring and there was nothing good on television. And watching the  _Death Race_ trilogy for the fifth time freaked out Rafael…for the fifth time.

Ratchet's inspection faltered only for a second when his curiosity piqued but, like Miko's patience, quickly went away.

Speaking of 'away', for the last few hours, Optimus Prime had taken Prowl, Jazz, and the twins to scan earth vehicle forms. It was only then Optimus had contacted base. A few moments later five cars drove through the green and white swirling vortex of a groundbridge portal.

Prime was the first one through followed by Prowl, then Jazz, and Sunstreaker was last behind his older brother. Optimus transformed next to Ratchet and allowed room for his fellow companions. Prowl parked next to the ground bridge with Jazz next to him. The twins were next to each other when the members of Team Prime walked into the main room, checking out the commotion. Jack, Miko, and Rafael ran down the stairs to get a closer look at the new,  _super_ -sweet cars now taking up the floor like an entertainment show.

Prowl, not really fond of showiness or being too worried about his looks, picked something simple but not out of taste. The spiked-hair teen walked toward Prowl's grill and admired the polish of the new paintjob. "Hey!" Raf said with a smile, "Something I never thought I'd see: a Datsun!"

Miko rolled her eyes, "Datsuns are  _so_  old," she scoffed. "Check out this rocking Porsche!"

"You know," Jack sighed, "this town doesn't see any Lambos except on T.V.," he said appreciatively, gesturing to the twins parked in front of him.

Prowl had chosen a white and black 2012 Datsun 280ZX. Jazz had scanned a flashy white 2014 Porsche Carrera GT and the twins both sported a 2014 Lamborghini Gallardo, Sideswipe being crimson red and Sunstreaker being 'sunshine' yellow.

Everyone looked at the new cars with interest when the four transformed, minding the humans' positions near them.

"You guys look so cool!" Miko exclaimed.

Jazz chuckled, "Thanks, little darling!" She gave a friendly wink.

Sideswipe stretched. "So, Nightdrift," he sauntered over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Intimate but nice. "When are you getting your v-mode? Earth has some pretty sweet models." She rolled her eyes when he smirked at her.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm not. Leaving. The base," she punctuated the last few words for unnecessary emphasis.

Optimus cut in, "Nightdrift is correct, Sideswipe, she will not leave our base for some time." Nightdrift's hidden optics gave an I-told-you-so. "But you will scan your own vehicle form eventually," Prime looked directly at her when he added that. Nightdrift may have limited privileges but she will still need to disguise herself on earth.

There will be times when she wants 'fresh air'.

* * *

The  _Nemesis_

Starscream is irritated. When is he not?

Megatron refused to talk to anyone after the Autobot footage. Except for Soundwave; understandable since they've been allies and _friends_  since who knows how long

"Soundwave," the seeker examined his manicured claws, "any success on the video?"

Soundwave refused to answer, only typing faster on the enhancements that are displayed on the screen.

"I take it that's a no then…"

More silence save for the beeping and blips of the computer.

"Tell me then," Starscream spoke loud enough to almost startle oneself. "Why do you think our master is so…out of character?" This wasn't a question, rather than a request.

Soundwave's digits faltered the slightest bit, indicating he does know but refuses to say anything.  _Like always_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like a good place to leave off…
> 
> I actually didn't research the actual models Prowl, Jazz, and the Twins were in G1 but I did look up the general make. I chose the coolest looking ones – in my opinion.
> 
> It's also been a while since I have thought back on this story, so my M&M thoughts may be a little rusty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story behind Nightdrift's and Megatron's fisrt meeting.

He convinced himself that it was an infatuation. That's the way it was with his previous lovers; Starscream and Orion Pax mostly. Other than them, Megatron didn't really look to interfacing.

For the past week, it's been that damn video footage! Soundwave had absolutely no luck identifying the unknown Autobot.

Black paint was so rare on Cybertron mostly because of the price. No one had the proper paint nanites – the things that help maintain the paintjob of a Transformer – when they're created. People would go to medics to have them recalibrated to allow such a dark color and that took a bit of work. Therefore, more credits would be paid.

But many would consider black to be ugly and a disgrace in some cases. Besides purple, which decorated nearly every inch of the Decepticon warship, black would considered be a color of evil and of Unicron, the Chaos-Bringer.

Black didn't seem to have a problem when it takes up a significant portion of Megatron's photographs that line up on high shelves in his berth room. There are a dozen, if not more, pictures that contain Megatronus' past. Most of the backgrounds have the setting of the Pits of Kaon, a gladiator's pride. All photos but one contained Megatronus either posed or relaxed and looking toward another direction. Same with the bots that are him in the pictures. A few of them show his victories in the arena but other than that either Orion Pax or Soundwave would occupy a spot next to the silver mech. There was even one with Ratchet standing next to Orion with a playful scowl. Megatronus and Orion had been teasing the poor medic that day.

But in every photograph, there was a black femme taking place. She bears red optics and seemingly thick armor. One might guess she would be a gladiator, as well. For the most part, it was obvious that she existed to Megatronus because both him and her would be touching each other, like brushing shoulders, or they looking at each other as if they were speaking.

For one that has a sharp optic, they would notice that Megatronus possessed a look in his optics that was different than anyone else's; they held a rare look no one has ever seen from the warlord before. While everyone else had light-sparked expressions and looked like they were having fun, Megatronus looks at this black gladiator – when she isn't looking – with a combination of kindness, appreciation, care, and compassion that all mix together to form that cherished feeling everyone enjoys: love.

Clinking energon orbs as a tribute to fallen warriors is Megatron's favorite. The back of the picture said it dates to back just to before the dawn of the war; before Optimus had become Prime and before the silver mech had dropped the last syllable from his name.

A pointed claw gently traced the frame of the photo, as if any force would shatter its delicacy. This one is special; if the hand-carved Cybertronian inscriptions on the navy blue outline of the picture is any indication.

There were only four bots in the picture, only showing from the torsos up. Three mechs and one femme. Their high-grade glasses touched, all bots wearing smiles on their faceplates. Megatronus was easily recognizable, as was Soundwave (even though he wasn't wearing a full face visor as he does currently). The femme stood with a professionally straight posture that was meant to be relaxed. She stood in between Megatronus, who was on the end of the four, and Soundwave. The fourth mech stood on the other end. He was a dusky orange and had visible scars that had evolved from scratches. The age was obvious and seemed to be 'over the hill'.

The three mechs seemed not to exist as the overlord continued to stare down the femme. Optics unreadable, Megatron had to fight the urge let his derma curve upwards. This bot had that effect on him.

 _Never give in._ It was near impossible to, especially with the femme's smile being contagious. Actually, it was the first thing he became infatuated with when he first met her.

* * *

The broad backside blocked her view. And she almost tripped many times, which is ridiculous for one who has such exceptional balance.

The gladiator paid no mind when he continued to stride to his favorite place in the underground of the pits; the sparring room.

Only a couple hallways away, a young voice echoed from behind him, "Um, where are we going, sir?"

"Don't call me sir," was the curt response.

Not really used to such rude tones, the femme pursed her lips shut and straightened herself, minding the uneven ground that she could faceplant on at any time.

Finally arriving at their destination after a long awkward silence, Megatronus escorted his guest into the room, which was filled with nearly hundreds of weapons and tools that could be used in a fight.

The femme looked in awe around the room, optics widening, at all the impressive objects, wondering about their own each specific use. There seemed to be enough materials to demonstrate the endless techniques that can be used for a fighter's advantage.

The femme's fascination was interrupted when the silver mech made a shelf of maces and nun chucks fall to the ground, making an obnoxious noise. The mech cursed under his breath and bent down to clean up his mess. He paused for a second and turned to his acquaintance in the doorway.

They held each other's gaze for what seemed like forever, Megatronus getting lost momentarily in what seems to be scared optics. When he regained his composure, he grunted, "Well, are you going to help me?" he said with a jerk of his head, beckoning over the femme. She skidded over at the command and knelt down immediately to gather up the weapons with effort.

She doesn't have as much armor as she should, in fact there seems to be less than there needs to be. With less strength, the femme was having trouble with her arm's load and even dropped a small knife that was buried in the pile.

Megatronus was at a loss for words, and action since he barely picked more than a few items, while he stared at the femme's pathetic fumbling.

He snorted a laugh before dropping his gathering and placed a rough servo on the anxious femme's shoulder. She immediately halted her movements and seemed to be…shaking?

"Why are you so nervous?"

The femme stopped shaking and sighed deeply, "Because I'm not really fond of the Pits," she stood up while still holding a few items.

The gladiator put a servo on his knee and pushed himself up and scowled, "Then why are you here?" His looming presence over her was almost scary. Almost.

She rolled her optics. "My friend pretty much forced me to come here with her," she paused when the mech crossed his arms over his spark chamber and narrowed his optics in something like annoyance. She sighed and continued, "She's been talking about this hot new gladiator for weeks and always wanted to see a fight. And she dragged me with because she didn't want to come here alone. Happy?"

Megatronus leaned in closer and smiled lecherously, "So this hot new gladiator…"

"That would be you," the femme sneered.

The gladiator straightened up and huffed and pivoted to walk more towards the back of the room. He approached a rack full of steel rods, each taller than him in length. He picked two off and turned to toss one to the femme who easily caught it with a raise of her arm.

"So  _now_  you have coordination," he teased.

He walked slowly around like a predator, in a curve to the femme's right. She knew this motion and automatically walked the other direction, like it was follow the leader.

Megatronus has always been the leader. Anyone could tell just by looking at him; the shoulder spikes, the couple fangs that were sawed off into his derma, his sense of poise and confidence has always been intimidating. It was needed, especially with what he did for a living.

The femme, on the other hand, was as mysterious as her paint job. The gladiator knew nothing about her, except that she doesn't keep on one mood for more than a few moments. First shy, then quiet, then, nervous, then confident. It's confusing really.

But Megatronus doesn't have a choice, per se. He was more or less ordered to train this femme to be the next 'hot new gladiator'. Femmes weren't common in the Pits but it would definitely help business!

"Why the long look on your face, old timer?" the femme gave a lopsided grin. Megatronus must have been sulking about his new assignment and it happened to show.

He realized that she was studying him. Calculating, maybe? He  _did_  offer to spar with her.

"Oh, no reason; just never had to train a sparkling before," his voice was mocking.

The femme stopped her pacing. "Sparkling?" She is offended. But she continues her slow walking. "At least I'm not a walking scrap yard," she looked away from him and instead straight ahead of her and held her head high. There's that confidence again.

"I should also mention that weak femmes don't tend to survive very long, especially in Kaon." So boastful.

"Yes, well, I  _really_  didn't expect to get a job offer that has a load of pompous idiots."

"Then why did you accept?" Real curiosity. Fake care.

The femme shrugged, "The credits are good. I'm getting paid just being here," she held her arms out by her shoulders in a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it kind of gesture.

"That they are," the other agreed, "but I didn't ask for this. If anything, I think it's a waste of both of our time," he paused where he was at and his stance seemed to take on a more darker tone.

The femme stopped too and they were face-to-face. "What, afraid of losing to a  _girl_?"

"More like a spoiled sparkling," Megatronus snorted.

"You're probably only good for being a decent trash compactor." She watched her servos twirl the rod in her hold.

"You do not possess the  _potential_  to be a gladiator."

"You don't think I can fight," she felt that insult ring in her audios for a while.

He scoffed. "Look at you! You don't even have the proper essentials to protect yourself against acid rain, much less a jagged sword," he gestured to the femme's frame and then his bo staff.

She couldn't disagree. You could see more parts of her protoform than usual and that wasn't exactly a good thing.

"Oh, don't be such a rust _bucket_!"

Megatronus seemed to be really insulted at that and gripped his staff with enough force to cut off energon circulation if it were alive.

He growled and charged his opponent. The surprised femme ducked and rolled out of the way of the swinging weapon in the gladiator's hands. The femme picked herself up and the mech turned around to face her and charged once more. He swung more than once, each barely missing his target.

She wasn't even trying to defend herself; she was just avoiding getting whacked in the face.

Soon, the femme seemed to get the point of her tool and used it to block several of her opponent's strikes, and she even whipped out a few good ones, too.

This continued the same way for the remainder of the spar, each bot getting hit harshly in the torso, as that was the only place they could aim. The femme is a beginner, after all.

After a few hours, they had started to slow down. Neither of them had gotten the upper hand. The femme had avoided many of the mech's blows but could not resist all of them. They both presented dents that could be easily be popped out later.

They had both paused momentarily to intake air. They were not condensing too much; they both had their fair share of hard work and strenuous activity.

The femme was tired though. "Okay, I'm done," she dropped her weapon on the ground and turned to leave for the doorway.

Taking advantage of the change of course, since the femme was distracted, Megatronus took his extended staff and swept the femme off her pedes to cause her to momentarily fall on her aft. Wanting to take the harsh pressure off her poor rear end, she leaned onto her hip plate and laid on her side to disperse the numbing sensation. She suddenly felt a heavy metal pin her to the ground.

Megatronus' shadow fell across her visage and she stopped trying to struggle out from the weight. The first thing she saw when she looked up was dark blue optics, unreadable.

He remove his foot from her narrow frame, and she panted. They held each other's gaze for several moments.

Megatronus, still recovering from his workout, let his optics roam over the black painted bot, taking in the details. It was the first time he noticed that the femme has  _wings_. Not seeker wings, but wide enough to make a bold 'V' behind her. They didn't go much past her head but they are still considered long. The femme had sharp accents with obvious gold pinstripes. She was obviously a ground-based Transformer. Blue optics matched his own and drew you to a conversation. She wasn't skinny, but she was narrow enough to draw the optic. The tires seem to either be new or they aren't used much, since the treads were barely worn.

_Were grounders always this attractive?_

The gladiator caught himself.  _What am I doing? She's practically a child!_

He cleared his throat and held out his right servo. The femme looked confused.

"Today was impressive. I did not expect you to last as long as you did."

She narrowed her optics in return but otherwise ignored the comment. The femme picked her up of the dusty floor and brushed off the dirt she accumulated, while ignoring the helping hand. She locked gazes with her company once more. "Thanks, I guess."

There was silence; then: "You don't have to train me, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't," Megatronus answered, somewhat confused.

"Fine. See you later." The femme made a sharp turn and walked out the door.

Just when Megatronus was going to speak again, she had already disappeared.

* * *

It was only a week later that the same femme was sitting at a energon bar counter, when the ever-famous gladiator had walked in. No one had seemed to care when he easily strides through the tables and citizens, not minding the whispers and star struck looks.

"You missed our last session," Megatronus deadpanned when he occupied a stool next to his student.

The femme smiled behind her drink. "Damn, you found me," she chuckled wryly as she set down the glass.

He looked at her. "So I take it you're out of the training?"

"Never said that," she said with a tight voice. She folded her hands in front of her with her elbows on the table.

"Then why didn't you show?"

"Busy," was the curt response. "Personal."

"Ah, all right," he said with true understanding. The bartender placed a glass with a fluorescent purple liquid in front of the silver mech. Without hesitation, Megatronus tossed a few silver coins to pay for the drink. He took a swig before he chuckled.

The femme looked at him with curiosity but before she could say anything, her companion chuckled again.

"Rusty told me what your name was when we met," he turned to look at the femme, "but for the life of me I can't remember what it is," he made an actual laugh this time.

She only raised an optic ridge at his weird smile. Then she grinned. "Maybe you should buy me a drink first," she said gesturing to the array of the choices on the shelves.

"Maybe I will," he smirked. He nodded to the bartender which brought another round to the two.

After he finished his second fill, he held out a servo by the femme's arms. She only looked at the appendage then looked at his faceplate. "Perhaps we should reacquaint ourselves," he took her hand without permission. Then without warning, he kissed it, making her blush. "I'm Megatronus, gladiator of Kaon." Chivalrous much?

The femme's only response was a stammer and suddenly looks very uncomfortable. She looks around the large expanse of the room, finding that some people were staring at this scene.

She looked at their conjoined hands, which looked like they were in mid-process of actually shaking, and swallowed. Fluttering her optics, she looked back up at the gladiator.

"I-I'm Nightdrift. Nice to meet you," she smiled shyly which Megatronus suddenly found kind of cute.

"Nightdrift," he repeated, more to himself. Tasting the name on his glossa, he whispered it once more to commit the name – and femme – to memory.

He didn't ever remember letting go of her servo. It felt nice

* * *

Megatron's daydream faded painfully slow.

He sighed and set down his drink on the armrest of his berthroom couch. Titling his head back, he closed his optics.

"I miss you, Nightdrift."

* * *

Soundwave removed his feelers from the door. It wasn't often her used them to listen in on conversations behind locked doors and walls.

He heard everything his longtime friend had said and he almost felt the flashback seep into his memory banks. He ruthlessly shoved them away, not wanting to deal with the same sparkbreak.

Being a natural thing, Soundwave recorded everything and saved the recent voice clip onto a temporary hard drive.

He almost considered using the recording but decided against it. Instead, an average-like voice with a deep overtone clicked from the spy master's vocalizer.

"I miss you Nightdrift."

Soundwave tried not to let his helm hang in despair as he walked away from Megatron's door, and down the dark hallway.

He completely missed the crash of Megatron's energon glass colliding with the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightdrift admits where she comes from on Cybertron and she has a bonding moment with Arcee; Optimus doesn't say many things but now he is admitting another hidden relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following scenes are just fill-in space. Meaning that I'm trying to back on track again and thinking of more ideas for upcoming chapters.
> 
> I haven't considered a beta or even a co-writer yet, though I doubt the latter will happen ;)
> 
> I should probably mention some of the characters will be OOC, especially Megatron and Soundwave :)

The Neutral took a luxurious sip from her energon ration. Then she typed a code into the computer. The process repeated for several minutes: sip, type, sip, type, sip…

Arcee only rolled her eyes when Nightdrift asked Ratchet what frequency the energon detectors were set at.

Part of the in-house projects was that Nightdrift would be occupied with devices or chores – under the medic's supervision, of course – to help benefit the Autobots in any way possible. It pretty much helped when the femme offered that she created some gadgets to assist Prowl and the others in the past. She even beefed up the security system, which Miko unfortunately discovered. Where the wet spot on the cement kitchen floor in response to the laser rifle pinpointed at the Japanese teen's skull came from, no one knew. Nightdrift only explained that if the base were to be discovered, the unwanted intruder would be trapped or decimated. Or both.

For weeks, Ratchet tried to fix the groundbridge controls and expand the efficiency of the energon alarms to increase the chance of getting more of the lifeblood than their enemies. Team Prime and the children still curse the Scraplets to this day…

"How many times do you have to fraggin' stare, Sides?" Sunstreaker snapped his digits in his twin's face. Sideswipe wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at her. Well, more like gawking. He was brought out of his stupor and gave a heated glare at his yellow counterpart.

"I'm just watching the Doc educate Night a little bit," Sideswipe frowned.

"More like Night teaching you more about her exhaust pipe," Sunstreaker smirked.

Sideswipe almost squawked in indignation. "I was not—!"

"Yes you were, Sides. You always look when she isn't." The yellow warrior seemed to be taller with his twin's slump of embarrassment. Just when Sideswipe was going to protest again, he realized that they were being watched. By everyone. Even Nightdrift.

Bulkhead only snickered. "Does someone have a crush on someone else?" he said in sing-song voice.

"You spend too much time with the kids, Bulk," Wheeljack snorted but didn't deny the same amusement he felt, as well.

Both twins looked at a smirking medic and femme. Things went down a weird road.

Nightdrift took another small sip. "What have I talked to you both about in the past?"

Sideswipe looked upwards, contemplating the question. His features cracked into a smile and said with utmost confidence, "Never pick your nose in public!"

Ah, look who found the internet.

The humans laughed as Nightdrift shook her head in amusement. "No, I meant when addressing me! I told you before not to call me 'Night'."

Sunstreaker huffed, "Would you rather we say 'Hey, you with the face!'?"

"Now that I think about it, 'Night' is less of a mouthful and has a good ring to it," she considered as she took another sip.

Sideswipe rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Eh, Nightdrift, sorry about staring. It's rude and I should know better," he avoided looking at the femme again.

"It's not the first time I caught you looking at my aft," she stated matter-of-factly.

Sideswipe's faceplate matched his paintjob at this point.

"You taught the twins how to apologize?" Ratchet said with surprised interest. Nightdrift looked at him and shrugged. "Tell me your secrets."

"We've been wondering how that happened, as well," Prowl said with a small grin.

"So, Nightdrift, where'd you come from?" Miko piped in. She placed herself in-between the rails of the balcony and swung her legs back and forth as if waiting for a bedtime story.

The black sports car faced the humans. "Well, when two bots love each other very much…"

Miko waved her hands to stop the Neutral from speaking. "You know that's not what I meant," she said with a playful glare. Nightdrift only chuckled when Jazz wanted to explain.

"Well, we rescued Nightdrift from her home city when it was in ruins. She asked for help and we simply gave it to her."

"What was your home city?" Arcee asked with genuine interest.

"Alexia Minor." Nightdrift answered simply. That piece of information seemed to be important as most of Team Prime's optics widened in shock.

"I always wanted to go there," Arcee said in awe. "What was it like?"

Alexia Minor was a large part of a two-part city. It was pretty much an upper-class version of Kaon. The city flowed with rich bots with high expectations and tastes. There were strict rules on many things and consequences were brutal. The second part was Alexia Major, same territory grounds as Minor but smaller, ironically. They both had that Disney World/Disney Land scenario. Major and Minor were both tourist attractions in early Cybertron years but mostly Iacon and Kaon stole that spotlight. Alexia Minor and Alexia Major were formed for elegance and pride that added up to a prestigious ego. Lovely cities but they had their moments.

"Oh, could've been better," Nightdrift quipped. She smirked behind her energon glass at the younger bots' faces of disappointment.

"I take it you didn't like the place?" Jack queried.

Nightdrift contemplated the question. "It's not that I didn't like it, it's just…I wasn't well-respected there."

Raf's eyes bugged, "Why?"

The femme's visor dimmed as she stated, " _That_  is a story for another time, young one." She turned to the Autobot medic and the Prime. "If it's all right, I'd like to request a trip to the wash racks. I have to say it has been a few stellar cycles since I had a good scrub."

Ignoring the quiet groans of disgust from the ex-Wreckers, Ratchet turned to his long time friend. "She  _has_  been working rather hard with the chores. I don't see anything wrong with another privilege. Especially since it would benefit her hygiene," he pushed down the urge to grimace.

Optimus' voice surged, "I agree, old friend. Nightdrift, you are welcome to use the showers. Arcee will escort you."

The two femmes locked gazes for a few seconds before the two-wheeler remarked, "Yay me."

Nightdrift looked back at the semi. "Thank you, Orion. I owe you one."

Optimus gave a small, lop-sided smile. "I will hold you to that, Nightdrift."

Nightdrift chuckled and walked to follow Arcee further into the base.

* * *

"You know her, Optimus?" Jack asked.

"Yes."

"I don't mean when she just arrived here on earth just less than a week ago. I mean did you, like know her before the war?"

Optimus smiled sheepishly. "Yes. I knew Nightdrift before the war. We shared…a mutual friend."

Jazz chuckled, "How much you wanna bet it was—oof!" He was immediately jabbed harshly at his side by Prowl. A small warning not to grudge up a certain past.

"Megatron?" Raf asked uncertainly. Optimus nodded in confirmation.

"But remember, Rafael, that he was known as 'Megatronus' during the Golden Age."

* * *

"So you know Optimus, huh?" Arcee asked when they reached their destination.

"Well, obviously," Nightdrift responded.

"Watch it, Neutral," the blue femme warned.

"What, I merely answered a question." she feigned innocence but Arcee just pointed to the open doorway, instructing her temporary charge to do whatever the heck she needs to do. Nightdrift simply followed the unspoken order and walked to one of the stalls, admiring the molding and the charm of the room. She quickly studied the three knobs wondering how to work them and figured the out the process in less than a minute. The left one was the cold temperature; the right has the warm temperature and both could be adjusted to the proper setting for the job. The third one was between the others and slightly above them to make some sort of right triangle. Halfway through the wash, the Neutral figure out that the third one worked the spray pattern. Had to be based off the human designs for their showers, she supposed.

"Do you need any help?" Arcee's voice rang throughout the small, thin steam cloud.

"No, thank you, Arcee." Nightdrift politely answered. She was confused on the offer of assistance because the smaller femme has been itching to use her blaster against the black femme ever since she woke up from stasis. Must be the 'girls always got to stick together' thing.

Finished in less than 30 minutes, Nightdrift turned off the water asked Arcee for a towel, in which she didn't hesitate to oblige. After a thorough scrub and a pat down, Nightdrift walked out to be greeted by Arcee leaning against the opposite wall with piercing optics. She smirked and used her shoulder to push her off the wall.

"Good thing you finished when you did. Another couple minutes and the water would have turned to ice."

"Excuse me?" Nightdrift asked with an amused smile.

"It's part of the water system we have," Arcee explained. "See, the human government pays the bills that helps operate the electricity for the lights and human devices, the water bill, and other utilities. Because hot water can be expensive, the system is on a timer that you could only use for a certain amount of time. 30 minutes then the water goes cold. It's part of something that's called 'Go Green!', I guess."

"Why would anyone want to go green?" Nightdrift asked, confused.

"It pretty much means help save the environment," Arcee elaborated. Nightdrift nodded in understanding.

"Speaking of green, Bulkhead used the shower once and since he is somewhat larger than the rest of us, it takes him longer to wash himself, even with help."

"I'm sure," the winged femme stated with an arched optic ridge.

Arcee chuckled and continued. "He didn't know about the timer system and used the shower for more than thirty minutes."

"And how did he react to that?" the other femme returned the chuckle.

"Well, we had a Scraplet invasion on earth once…"

"Ah, I see." And she started walking toward the others, with Arcee following suit.

* * *

"Thank you for bringing my assistant back in one piece, Arcee. Much appreciated."

"Actually it wasn't a problem, Ratchet. Nightdrift has a good sense of humor." Arcee cocked her hips.

Jack smiled, "Not only did you bring her back in one piece, 'Cee, you two are laughing together."

"Not so subtle at worming your way into a woman's conversation, are you, Mr. Darby?" Nightdrift chuckled.

"Oh, no. Mr. Darby is my father. Please, call me Jack," the raven-haired teen held a hand in a formal gesture.

Nightdrift just laughed and pointed at the clever boy. "I like him."

"Yeah, we do, too, otherwise he wouldn't be here," Raf chuckled.

"Meany." Jack grumbled.

"So you know Optimus?"

Nightdrift looked at Miko, remembering the question asked earlier by Arcee.

"Not really." she answered. Arcee looked confused.

"How? I mean, you called him 'Orion', so I was just wondering."

"Everyone knows Orion. I only saw him a few times on the street and near his workplace, but that's about it."

Everyone looked at Optimus as if he was cursed but he only looked away from the multiple looks seeing how maybe he said something he shouldn't have.

But that was soon forgotten when the alarm went off.

"Oh yeah!" Miko yelled somewhat excitedly. "Time to kick some Decepticon tailpipe!"

"For once," Ratchet sighed, "I agree with Miko," he said as Jazz and the twins whooped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took waaaaay too long. I plan to have to have another chapter up soon. Key word is 'plan'.
> 
> Love you all (whoever might be reading this) ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's short. This is just a warm-up. Anyone wanna guess who's part of Prowl's team beside himself and Nightdrift? :D


End file.
